Monday, January 02, 2006
An odd trio ...
Stephen King, Martin Amis, and A.M. Homes chat about writing (hat tip: Steve Clackson).
My review ...
... of Bruce Jenkins's Goodbye: In Search of Gordon Jenkins is here.
One of the great things about blogging is that one can expand upon and clarify what one has written in the more confined space of the paper. Even have second thoughts. If you're a Gordon Jenkins fan, or are just interested in American pop music in the 20th century, Bruce Jenkins's book is one you'll want to read. I probably should have mentioned in my review that Bruce Jenkins says in the book that the research he did enabled him to connect with his father in a way he never had before. My own impression was of a fundamentally sad loner really at home only with his music. He's quoted somewhere in the book as saying he was a talent lover, willing to forgive people with great gifts their often just-as-great faults, to put up with them in a way he never would put up with unpleasant behavior on the part of "ordinary" people. As he said in a letter to Bruce: "It sure beats being just plain folks..." I have never myself felt that talented people were better than plain folks and I think the greater the talent the more responbility you have to behave well, actually ( though I am perfectly well aware that this is rarely the case). At any rate, I finished the book with as many questions about Gordon Jenkins as answers. Which is OK. People are hard to get a handle on.
One thing I wish I had discussed -- but didn't for lack of space -- was the criticism of Gordon Jenkins that Bruce Jenkins elicited from Jonathan Schwartz, who complains about "the Jenkins sentimentality and the harmonies," "the overstatement of violins ... the Tchaikovsky of it..." Schwartz is wrong. It is precisely the sweetness that makes Jenkins's sadness appealing. To quote Tchaikovsky himself: "it is all so sad and yet so sweet to muse upon the past." We take pleasure in sweet sadness, not in sadness itself, straight up, no chaser.
UPDATE: You may also want to read my colleague David Stearns's review of Ethel Merman: The Biggest Star on Broadway: Merman: A big voice and a persona to match.
One of the great things about blogging is that one can expand upon and clarify what one has written in the more confined space of the paper. Even have second thoughts. If you're a Gordon Jenkins fan, or are just interested in American pop music in the 20th century, Bruce Jenkins's book is one you'll want to read. I probably should have mentioned in my review that Bruce Jenkins says in the book that the research he did enabled him to connect with his father in a way he never had before. My own impression was of a fundamentally sad loner really at home only with his music. He's quoted somewhere in the book as saying he was a talent lover, willing to forgive people with great gifts their often just-as-great faults, to put up with them in a way he never would put up with unpleasant behavior on the part of "ordinary" people. As he said in a letter to Bruce: "It sure beats being just plain folks..." I have never myself felt that talented people were better than plain folks and I think the greater the talent the more responbility you have to behave well, actually ( though I am perfectly well aware that this is rarely the case). At any rate, I finished the book with as many questions about Gordon Jenkins as answers. Which is OK. People are hard to get a handle on.
One thing I wish I had discussed -- but didn't for lack of space -- was the criticism of Gordon Jenkins that Bruce Jenkins elicited from Jonathan Schwartz, who complains about "the Jenkins sentimentality and the harmonies," "the overstatement of violins ... the Tchaikovsky of it..." Schwartz is wrong. It is precisely the sweetness that makes Jenkins's sadness appealing. To quote Tchaikovsky himself: "it is all so sad and yet so sweet to muse upon the past." We take pleasure in sweet sadness, not in sadness itself, straight up, no chaser.
UPDATE: You may also want to read my colleague David Stearns's review of Ethel Merman: The Biggest Star on Broadway: Merman: A big voice and a persona to match.
I suspect ...
... that Joan Houlihan is going to get a lot of grief for Three Invitations to a Far Reading (linked to at Arts & Letters Daily). I found this paragraph especially interesting:
I was recently amazed to discover from one of my students (who claimed I did not share his aesthetics) that he much preferred my edited versions of his apparently random lines. Why? Because they coalesced by means of re-ordering. The coalescing was still elliptical, certainly not a story in any traditional sense, but clearly there were connections between and among the lines. It seemed that this student’s “aesthetics” consisted of simple ignorance about how to create a seemingly whole poem from a series of disparate lines, even though it was his own poem. Not knowing how to do so provoked in him the idea that it was a matter of aesthetics rather than craft.
What struck me, while reading this piece, was that all of the poems cited are remarkably similar in their lack of affect. The seeming randomness of the lines in fact underscores this.
I was recently amazed to discover from one of my students (who claimed I did not share his aesthetics) that he much preferred my edited versions of his apparently random lines. Why? Because they coalesced by means of re-ordering. The coalescing was still elliptical, certainly not a story in any traditional sense, but clearly there were connections between and among the lines. It seemed that this student’s “aesthetics” consisted of simple ignorance about how to create a seemingly whole poem from a series of disparate lines, even though it was his own poem. Not knowing how to do so provoked in him the idea that it was a matter of aesthetics rather than craft.
What struck me, while reading this piece, was that all of the poems cited are remarkably similar in their lack of affect. The seeming randomness of the lines in fact underscores this.
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Ponder this ...
Until recently Richard Swinburne was the Nolloth Professor of the Philosophy of the Christian Religion at Oxford University. The second edition edition of his The Existence of God was recently reviewed in the TLS. I just happened to come upon this mention of him at Fides Quaerens Intellectum: Has Richard Swinburne Lost His Brain? Read carefully.
I first heard of ...
... John Scalzi through Instapundit. On Thursday, the paperback edition of Scalzi's Old Man's War arrived in my office and I plan on reading it some time in the coming month. In the meantime, Glenn Reynolds links to another science fiction writer I hadn't heard of.
A wide-ranging discussion ...
... of poetry and the community of poets, starting with Seth Abramson's The Sociology of Poetry: A Rant (Of Sorts), continuing with Joshua Corey's Bah, Humbug Edition, and further observations by Craig Teicher. (Joshua Corey has further thoughts and more links here.)
Saturday, December 31, 2005
The scholars' tales ...
In the third installment of his coverage of this year's Modern Language Association convention, Nick Gillespie notes that "it's been years -- decades even -- since a major new way of thinking about literature has really taken the academic world by storm.." I can't help wondering why we need a new way of thinking about literature. A sound way would seem to suffice.
A young friend of mine has just returned from a semester abroad studying literary theory. She found it convoluted, dull and largely irrelevant and dubious -- of course she has spent several years earning her living by writing. Practical experience often leaves one skeptical of theoretical formulations.
Gillespie is a lot more sympathetic to the goings on at the MLA convention than, I confess, I would be. I regard arguments grounded in "infantile sexual experiences," for example, as fundamentally unpersuasive, given that we can know nothing for sure about such, infants being unable to discuss or record any of their experiences. As for evolution -- which also figures in a good bit of this literary theorizing -- I have a few questions: Can Hitler be explained by means of natural selection? Can war? If 99 percent of all species known to have existed are extinct, isn't extinction nature's way, and why should we care if another species bites the dust? If humans have evolved into a species that exploits the environment, what's wrong with that? What's wrong with anything, in fact, if it's a product of evolution?
A young friend of mine has just returned from a semester abroad studying literary theory. She found it convoluted, dull and largely irrelevant and dubious -- of course she has spent several years earning her living by writing. Practical experience often leaves one skeptical of theoretical formulations.
Gillespie is a lot more sympathetic to the goings on at the MLA convention than, I confess, I would be. I regard arguments grounded in "infantile sexual experiences," for example, as fundamentally unpersuasive, given that we can know nothing for sure about such, infants being unable to discuss or record any of their experiences. As for evolution -- which also figures in a good bit of this literary theorizing -- I have a few questions: Can Hitler be explained by means of natural selection? Can war? If 99 percent of all species known to have existed are extinct, isn't extinction nature's way, and why should we care if another species bites the dust? If humans have evolved into a species that exploits the environment, what's wrong with that? What's wrong with anything, in fact, if it's a product of evolution?
Friday, December 30, 2005
An outstanding list ...
... at So Many Books: My Favorite Five in '05 . C.S. Lewis's Till We Have Faces is a great book, Lewis's masterpiece in fact. And Muriel Rukeyser I have always loved for reminding us that "the world is made of stories / not of atoms." Rukeyser, by the way, was no scientific illiterate, and her biography of J. Willard Gibbs -- probably the gratest scientist America has produced -- is still well worth reading.
This has nothing to do about books exactly ...
... but I'm going to blog about it anyway. WRTI-FM here in Philly just finished broadcasting a performance of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana by Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic. It was on when I came back from shopping, so while listening to it I had no idea who the performers were. It didn't especially impress me. For one thing I thought the tempos were too consistently fast. This was particularly the case when "O Fortuna," which opens and closes the piece, returned at the end. I still think Ormandy's version of Orff's cantata is the best (when released, one reviewer called it the best choral-orchestral record ever made). Ormandy seems to understand, as Rattle obviously does not, that the "O Fortuna" music is a parody of the "Dies irae." So his "O Fortuna" is menacing and dramatic, not simply frenetic like Rattle's.
The future of newspapers ...
... is obviously of some concern to us, since we earn our living working for one. So this post by former newsman Jim Bowman, Chicago Newspapers, the Blog: Established dog bites back, interested us greatly.
Newspapers and journalists get a lot of unfair criticism. But not all of the criticism is unfair. As I think this post demonstrates.
Newspapers and journalists get a lot of unfair criticism. But not all of the criticism is unfair. As I think this post demonstrates.
I never knew ...
... that The Man from Snowy River was originally a poem. In Rhyme's reason, David Campbell does "a bit of tub-thumping for Australia's own form of traditional verse, commonly known as bush poetry." Sounds a bit like cowboy poetry. Which gives me an opportunity to do some tub-thumping of my own: Next month is the 22d National Cowboy Poetry Gathering. I attended last years and wrote about in The Inquirer. It's a great event.
Has it come to this?
I'm afraid it has. Because Scott McLemee's review of Margo Jefferson's On Michael Jackson is really worth your time, if only for this description of the Gloved One: "some kind of hermaphroditic, post-racial, trans-human creature from planet Narcissus."
I must say, too, that yesterday's visitor to Cogito, ergo Boom intrigues me too.
I must say, too, that yesterday's visitor to Cogito, ergo Boom intrigues me too.
How Rambo came to be ...
Steve Clackson at Sand Storm draws attention to a piece about David Morell, author of First Blood, the book that introduced John Rambo to the world. I never knew any of this, including the Penn State connection.
Steve also compliments us. Thanks, Steve, the feeling is mutual.
Steve also compliments us. Thanks, Steve, the feeling is mutual.
Adaptation ...
The excellent Arts & Letters Daily links to Yeah, but the Book Is Better, an insightful piece by Thane Rosenbaum, whose novel Second Hand Smoke is being adapted to the screen. A key quote:
With a novel, the author forms an implicit partnership with his audience. He provides the story and its voice, but the reader adds the visuals. The power of a novel's description is often tempered by sketchy details. Much is left out in order to leave something to the imagination. The reader is free to conjure the characters in his own way, to picture how they look, because the mind's eye has a way of assembling an image that is quite different from how a character might appear on screen. In the end, the novelist surrenders his book to his readers. Thereafter it becomes theirs, and his proprietary interest ceases.
But read the whole thing. (My own view, for what it's worth, is that short stories and novellas adapt better, because the screen writer has room to flesh things out rather than cut, cut , cut. The Man Who Would Be King and Angels & Insects are two good examples. With a novel what makes it to the screen is a Cliffs Notes version.)
With a novel, the author forms an implicit partnership with his audience. He provides the story and its voice, but the reader adds the visuals. The power of a novel's description is often tempered by sketchy details. Much is left out in order to leave something to the imagination. The reader is free to conjure the characters in his own way, to picture how they look, because the mind's eye has a way of assembling an image that is quite different from how a character might appear on screen. In the end, the novelist surrenders his book to his readers. Thereafter it becomes theirs, and his proprietary interest ceases.
But read the whole thing. (My own view, for what it's worth, is that short stories and novellas adapt better, because the screen writer has room to flesh things out rather than cut, cut , cut. The Man Who Would Be King and Angels & Insects are two good examples. With a novel what makes it to the screen is a Cliffs Notes version.)
Thursday, December 29, 2005
'Tis the fifth day of Christmas ...
... so it's a fine time to savor Chesterton's The House of Christmas, posted by Lars Walker at Brandywine Books.
A refreshing list ...
Karie B. at Bookish totes up the Bad Books. She didn't like The Da Vinci Code and for exactly the reasons I didn't.
Assumptions, assumptions ...
Lisa Coutant thinks there are false Assumptions about readers. I think she's right.
Calculating a best-seller ...
... though it seems The Da Vinci Code breaks the rules. Some comments here.
What the reviewers said ...
of the movies and books. What Kirkus said in 1950 about The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe: "Although metaphysical rumblings may disturb adults, this wily symbolism-studded fantasy should appeal to children of an imaginative turn ... Not recommended for adults!"
Bookman's holiday ...
When not doing something connected to my job as book review editor, I like to relax by cooking. Some evidence for this can be found here.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Borrowing vs. stealing ...
I never heard of either Brad Vice or the controversy over a recent short story collection of his. But it seems quite a tale. Grumpy Old Bookman offers some comment and several useful links. A Charming Plagiarist in the New York Press provides the prosecutorial summation. In The literary lynching of Brad Vice Jason Sanford mounts a defense against the original charge, then takes up his cudgel again to ward off new ones. GalleyCat weighed in. So has Booksquare: To Live Outside the Law.
As for myself, I share Grumpy Old Bookman's sentiments about the creative-writing nexus.
As for myself, I share Grumpy Old Bookman's sentiments about the creative-writing nexus.
A bit of exaggeration perhaps?
Check out these pictures of The Cold Snap in Europe from BBC News. Except for the shot of the cars in Kent, it doesn't look like that much a snowfall to me.
The prospect for books (cont'd) ...
Glenn Reynolds links to fascinating piece about an alleged truism regarding electrons vs. paper.
Another legend bites the dust ...
Scott McLemee links to a revelatory letter by Upton Sinclair about Sacco and Vanzetti. Here's more from Scott himself: Impure Literature.
Now take a deep breath ...
Not you. Benjamin Kunkel. Edward Champion lists the Full List of Things That Benjamin Kunkel is Angry About.
Attention, please ....
Miss Snark has turned hers to book synopses submitted for her perusual. She is employing her fabled Crapometer.
Don't worry ...
... even if fiction is dying or actually dead, it's bound to resurrect itself. John Freeman explains Why fiction is a phoenix.
Not another crisis ...
Conversational Reading discusses The Reading Crisis and links to a corresponding discussion of same at n+1.
One of the more interesting Top 10 lists ...
Ninety-nine percent of all the books ever published are out of print. But, thanks in large part to the Internet, they're are easily available and some, apparently, sell briskly. The Book Standard reports that Bookfinder.com Lists Top 10 Out–of–Print Books for 2005 . I didn't know Lynne Cheney had written "a racy ... novel of female bisexuality and prostitution." Maybe Jeffrey Hart is right and the Bush administration isn't so conservative after all.
It's been a couple of years now ...
... but people still haven't forgotten my colleague Carlin Romano's encounter with Dale Peck -- the Raskolnikov of reviewers -- at BookExpo America in Chicago. The Book Bables wonder if Book-Reviewing Has Become Just Plain Creepy . Well, it's guys like me, book review editors, who make the decision to let a review see the light of print.
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
It's probably clear by now ...
... that I'm no fan of Harold Pinter, either his pretentious, vacuous plays or his recent Nobel rant. So naturally, I found Lee Harris's Nobel acceptance speech quite satisfying. Lee Harris? Nobel? Well, as Lee asks, "Why not?"
Writers sound off ...
... not necessarily to their advantage: Quotes of the year in the Sunday Times.
And Bill Peschel links to some bizarre resolutions.
And Bill Peschel links to some bizarre resolutions.
The prospects for books (cont'd)
John Sutherland thinks that he's seen the future. It's P2P -- and TBP and Tescoisation are taking us there.
And Philip Oltermann ponders books vs. electronics.
And Philip Oltermann ponders books vs. electronics.
And just in case ...
... you haven't seen it, Glenn Reynolds at Instapundit links to a video demonstrating that part of the problem in Iraq may be linguistic.
On this third day of Christmas ...
... let's take a closer look at Dickens's "A Christmas Carol." Hat tip to reader John Carman.
My review ...
... of Kay Ryan's The Niagara River is here at Editor's Choice.
And here's a fresh look at Sinclair Lewis's It Can't Happen Here.
And here's a fresh look at Sinclair Lewis's It Can't Happen Here.
Monday, December 26, 2005
More nourishing fare ...
... on science than one is likely to find in a newspaper: From First Things, particle physicist Stephen Barr on Science and Teleology.
Since it's officially a holiday ...
... here's a Christmas story by Jeanette Winterson linked to by BookGlutton.
I missed this ...
... but it's worth noting anyway: Golden Rule Jones posts the Tyrone Family Christmas Letter.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
Saturday, December 24, 2005
Friday, December 23, 2005
What's in a review?
Conventional Reading posts a discussion of a review of a review. Follow the link to get the full context. My own view on the subject of reviews is strictly phenomenological: If I can accurately and precisely describe what I have read, my reader will know full well what I feel about what I've read. In other words, the subject of a review is the book-reader relationship.
I can't let it go at that ...
… because there are a few others deserving of mention:
Myself & the Other Fellow: A Biography of Robert Louis Stevenson by Claire Harmon. Everything you could want in a literary biography.
Defining the World The Extraordinary Story of Dr Johnson's Dictionary by Henry Hitchings. Clear, concise and filled with fascinating information not only about the wonderful Dr. Johnson, but much, much else besides.
The Traveler by John Twelve Hawks. I have it on good authority that teenage guys not inclined to read much have a hard time putting this one down. A little goofy, but pretty riveting.
State of Fear by Michael Crichton. Dan Brown should read this just to see how a real pro writes a thriller. Devout environmentalists will rend their garments over Crichton’s blasphemy, but he’s got charts and graphs and a lot of other data to support this thriller’s premise.
The Rosary Girls by Richard Montanari. Complex, effective, and often genuinely creepy thriller quite accurately set in Philly.
Myself & the Other Fellow: A Biography of Robert Louis Stevenson by Claire Harmon. Everything you could want in a literary biography.
Defining the World The Extraordinary Story of Dr Johnson's Dictionary by Henry Hitchings. Clear, concise and filled with fascinating information not only about the wonderful Dr. Johnson, but much, much else besides.
The Traveler by John Twelve Hawks. I have it on good authority that teenage guys not inclined to read much have a hard time putting this one down. A little goofy, but pretty riveting.
State of Fear by Michael Crichton. Dan Brown should read this just to see how a real pro writes a thriller. Devout environmentalists will rend their garments over Crichton’s blasphemy, but he’s got charts and graphs and a lot of other data to support this thriller’s premise.
The Rosary Girls by Richard Montanari. Complex, effective, and often genuinely creepy thriller quite accurately set in Philly.
Everybody else does it ...
… so why not me. Here are my picks out of the books I reviewed this year in my “Editor’s Choice” column:
The Society of Others by William Nicholson. “If you want a name, use your own,” the protagonist of this enigmatic novel by the author of Shadowlands tells the reader as he refuses to divulge his name. Which is just as well because The Society of Others ultimately leaves the reader at the center of its mystery.
Sophia House by Michael D. O'Brien. A harrowing account, set in Warsaw during World War II, of the relationship between a bitter bookseller and the 17-year-old Hasidic boy he shelters from the Germans, a demonstration that genuine sainthood costs, in Eliot’s phrase, “not less than everything.”
Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt by Anne Rice. Told in the voice of the divinely precocious Jesus, this is a remarkably effective fictional presentation of the figure millions continue to regard as their Savior.
The Sea by John Banville. Perhaps the greatest sustained bit of onomatopoeia in the language. The sea of the title resonates in practically every sentence. A tale of loss, not only of a wife, but of meaning, it is stunningly written and quite moving.
The Singularity Is Near by Ray Kurzweil. Simply an important book, crammed with ideas and information. The book you have to read if you want to have some idea of what is happening technologically.
William Pitt the Younger by William Hague. The former leader of Britain’s Conservative Party has written an extraordinarily lucid and compelling biography of the man who was the youngest prime minister ever and the longest-serving prime minister in war time. An enigmatic, but strangely tragic figure.
Makes You Stop and Think by Daniel Hoffman. The former U.S. poet laureate’s sonnets are masterfully crafted, utterly accessible, often funny, sometimes heartbreaking. If you think you don’t like poetry, try these.
The Niagara River by Kay Ryan. Ryan’s short, wry, thoughtful poems are as concentrated as diamonds. They make you reconsider not only the world but the words we use to talk about it.
Pure Pagan Seven Centuries of Greek Poems and Fragments Selected and translated by Burton Raffel. Want to know how people who believed in life after death but didn’t think it amounted to much looked at the world? Read this book.
Telegrams of the Soul Selected Prose of Peter Altenberg Translated by Peter Wortsman. Short, quirky pieces by a classic romantic bohemian who paid a higher price for his carefree persona than anyone suspected.
The Society of Others by William Nicholson. “If you want a name, use your own,” the protagonist of this enigmatic novel by the author of Shadowlands tells the reader as he refuses to divulge his name. Which is just as well because The Society of Others ultimately leaves the reader at the center of its mystery.
Sophia House by Michael D. O'Brien. A harrowing account, set in Warsaw during World War II, of the relationship between a bitter bookseller and the 17-year-old Hasidic boy he shelters from the Germans, a demonstration that genuine sainthood costs, in Eliot’s phrase, “not less than everything.”
Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt by Anne Rice. Told in the voice of the divinely precocious Jesus, this is a remarkably effective fictional presentation of the figure millions continue to regard as their Savior.
The Sea by John Banville. Perhaps the greatest sustained bit of onomatopoeia in the language. The sea of the title resonates in practically every sentence. A tale of loss, not only of a wife, but of meaning, it is stunningly written and quite moving.
The Singularity Is Near by Ray Kurzweil. Simply an important book, crammed with ideas and information. The book you have to read if you want to have some idea of what is happening technologically.
William Pitt the Younger by William Hague. The former leader of Britain’s Conservative Party has written an extraordinarily lucid and compelling biography of the man who was the youngest prime minister ever and the longest-serving prime minister in war time. An enigmatic, but strangely tragic figure.
Makes You Stop and Think by Daniel Hoffman. The former U.S. poet laureate’s sonnets are masterfully crafted, utterly accessible, often funny, sometimes heartbreaking. If you think you don’t like poetry, try these.
The Niagara River by Kay Ryan. Ryan’s short, wry, thoughtful poems are as concentrated as diamonds. They make you reconsider not only the world but the words we use to talk about it.
Pure Pagan Seven Centuries of Greek Poems and Fragments Selected and translated by Burton Raffel. Want to know how people who believed in life after death but didn’t think it amounted to much looked at the world? Read this book.
Telegrams of the Soul Selected Prose of Peter Altenberg Translated by Peter Wortsman. Short, quirky pieces by a classic romantic bohemian who paid a higher price for his carefree persona than anyone suspected.
One from Column A ...
... and two from Column B perhaps. At GalleyCat: Take out a book along with your Chinese food.
Authors speak up ...
Bookreporter.com links to all of its 2005 author interviews. Included are chats with Richard Montanari (The Rosary Girls) and Neil Olsen (The Icon), both of whose books I reviewed and liked. Also one with Steve Berry, whose The Third Secret I didn't manage to get to but heard good things about.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
Yet another shared enthusiasm...
Sandra at Book World posts about Arthur Machen, a wonderful writer.
Another chance to speak out ...
Maud Newton links to an opportunity to read a favorite poem and have your reading posted on the Net.
Critical blogging ...
... or blogging criticism. Either way, a panel at the Makor Center discussed it. James Marcus was there. So was Bud Parr. My view is much the same as Terry Teachout's.
History is written by the winners ...
... as Lars Walker demonstrates at Brandywine Books: The Eve of St. Erling’s Day.
Something to think about ...
Karie B, at Bookish raises an issue worth considering:
"Refraining from reading a book (or watching a film) because characters are involved in something you find morally objectional strikes me as .. very odd. Is it because you in your capacity as a reader are afraid of losing yourself in the headspace of the characters or .. what?"
It seems to me that to refrain from reading a book because the characters engage in something I find morally objectionable would seriously limit the range of my reading. I object to murder, but think Macbeth is a great play. In fact, I find I connect quite well with Macbeth himself, especially at the end when, knowing all is lost including honor, that the prophecies have come to pass and Birnum Wood has indeed come to Dunsinane, he still doesn';t shrink from fighting MacDuff.
Lolita, on the other hand, didn't grab me becaus I just couldn't connect with Humbert Humbert as a person. I find it difficult to read a work of fiction whose central character I cannot in some way identify with. A limitation, I am sure, but it hasn't kept me from much.
"Refraining from reading a book (or watching a film) because characters are involved in something you find morally objectional strikes me as .. very odd. Is it because you in your capacity as a reader are afraid of losing yourself in the headspace of the characters or .. what?"
It seems to me that to refrain from reading a book because the characters engage in something I find morally objectionable would seriously limit the range of my reading. I object to murder, but think Macbeth is a great play. In fact, I find I connect quite well with Macbeth himself, especially at the end when, knowing all is lost including honor, that the prophecies have come to pass and Birnum Wood has indeed come to Dunsinane, he still doesn';t shrink from fighting MacDuff.
Lolita, on the other hand, didn't grab me becaus I just couldn't connect with Humbert Humbert as a person. I find it difficult to read a work of fiction whose central character I cannot in some way identify with. A limitation, I am sure, but it hasn't kept me from much.
Opening gambit ...
Steven Hart has a nice piece about Dashiell Hammett's first novel, Red Harvest. I agree about the opening, but the thing I most remember about the book is a line that comes toward the end (if memory serves): "I haven't laughed so much since the hogs ate my kid brother."
Instant library ...
The complete set of Penguin Classics is now available -- and only available -- at Amazon.
The perils of assigning ...
Lisa Coutant links to a discussion at GalleyCat regarding whether a book should be assigned for review "to somebody if the author of that book had previously panned the reviewer's earlier work."
I certainly wouldn't. And I may have more to say on the subject later.
I certainly wouldn't. And I may have more to say on the subject later.
In the Nicholas of time ...
Speaking of Dostoyevsky, Today in Literature reminds that on this date in 1849 the writer-to-be was led out of the Peter and Paul Fortress (commanded by an ancestor of Vladimir Nabokov) with some fellow prisoners to be executed. Just before the first group was about to be dispatched, a messenger arrived with a reprieve from Czar Nicholas I (who had concocted the whole charade). Dostoyevsky was shipped off to Siberia for four years. Another prisoner became completely deranged as a result of the ordeal and had to be confined to an asylum.
What has this got to do with books?
Well, give me a moment to explain. Bill Peschel links to Dustbury, who links to the Slut-o-Meter. The latter, I find, provides some interesting evaluations:
Tolstoy: -8.24 percent
Dostoyevsky: 6.89 percent
Kerouac: -1.88 percent
Bukowski: 11.86 percent
Henry James: 3.28 percent
What can you make of something that rates Henry James sluttier than Tolstoy and Kerouac?
Tolstoy: -8.24 percent
Dostoyevsky: 6.89 percent
Kerouac: -1.88 percent
Bukowski: 11.86 percent
Henry James: 3.28 percent
What can you make of something that rates Henry James sluttier than Tolstoy and Kerouac?
The perils of reprise ...
Bill Peschel ponders sequels cinematic and literary. I think the problem with sequels is that the motive for them always seems more purely commenercial than anything else.
RIP: Fiction ...
Steve Clackson posts a CBC piece wondering Is Fiction Dead?
At BookExpo America a few years ago I heard much talk that strongly narrative nonfiction was beginning to displace fiction. I think the key here is "strongly narrative." Fiction that tells a good story continues to sell. But I see no evidence that "the war in Iraq ... has fuelled readers’ appetites for political non-fiction." Fiction that eschews narrative in favor of style and interior musings seems to appeal to a minority of readers (but often gets highly praised by reviewers). It's not all that different from movies: The movies we're supposed to take seriously as "art" are "intimate" indie flicks. But I can't be the only person who has noticed how little variety there often is among the idependents. If you have the Independent Film Channel on cable, channel surf there from time to time: Amazing how many of the films are shot the same way, with the same sort of lighting, the same sort of sweet-melacholy score, the same mood.
At BookExpo America a few years ago I heard much talk that strongly narrative nonfiction was beginning to displace fiction. I think the key here is "strongly narrative." Fiction that tells a good story continues to sell. But I see no evidence that "the war in Iraq ... has fuelled readers’ appetites for political non-fiction." Fiction that eschews narrative in favor of style and interior musings seems to appeal to a minority of readers (but often gets highly praised by reviewers). It's not all that different from movies: The movies we're supposed to take seriously as "art" are "intimate" indie flicks. But I can't be the only person who has noticed how little variety there often is among the idependents. If you have the Independent Film Channel on cable, channel surf there from time to time: Amazing how many of the films are shot the same way, with the same sort of lighting, the same sort of sweet-melacholy score, the same mood.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Magical thieving ...
A Russian security guard has been arrested for stealing two copies of the latest Harry Potter novel and threatening to blackmail publisher Bloomsbury. Even worse, he jumped the pub the date!
Presidential reading ....
DR. A.P.J. Abdul Kalam, President of India, writes about a few of the books that he read this year. (Hat tip: patrakaar2b.)
The prospects for books ...
Michael Hyatt has some further thoughts on what the future may hold for books. Grumpy Old Bookman adds some thoughts of his own.
A good year for crime fiction ...
... but not a great year, David Montgomery says. Here is his look back.
Odds & ends
J.M. Coetzee defends the social sciences.
There's a poetry workshop going on at the Guardian, and it's not too late to join in.
Philip Hensher responds to Ian Rankin.
The Bookseller and the Historian
There's a poetry workshop going on at the Guardian, and it's not too late to join in.
Philip Hensher responds to Ian Rankin.
The Bookseller and the Historian
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
True, it has nothing to do with books ...
... but four out of five letters makes it close. And it's a pretty intriguing post Lisa Coutant has at Oy She's At It Again.
Words matter ...
Magnus Linklater in the Times of London declares that "the beauty of language in traditional hymns is what inspires, not modern banalities." O come off it, all ye Faithful.
Also in the Times, an obituary for George Painter, biographer of Proust.
Finally, again from the Times, A Christmas Carol serialized and condensed by Charles Dickens himself.
Also in the Times, an obituary for George Painter, biographer of Proust.
Finally, again from the Times, A Christmas Carol serialized and condensed by Charles Dickens himself.
Where to look up what ...
Martyn Everett at Booksurfer links to a report comparing Wikipedia and Encyclopedia Britannica. I use both -- and subscribe to Britannica.
Newspapers aren't the only ones ...
... who don't figure into their equation people who read books. According to Booksquare, neither do book publishers.
As for newspapers, Ghost Word posts this.
As for newspapers, Ghost Word posts this.
It's a jungle out there ...
Sand Storm links to a story that demonstrates just how predacious the publishing world can be.
"Had we but world enough, and time ..."
As Andrew Marvell put it in "To His Coy Mistress." Well, maybe we do. Take a look at The Clock of All Time.
Be of good cheer ...
Or maybe not. James Panero at armavirumque looks at Shakespeare's war on Christmas.
More recommendations ...
Elizabeth Kostova, author of The Historian offers up her picks at the Guardian, which has some others besides. And Christopher Caldwell at the Weekly Standard has a fine appreciation of Anthony Powell.
Update: January magazine has a comprehensive list. And Blogcritics serve up picks with a twist.
Update: January magazine has a comprehensive list. And Blogcritics serve up picks with a twist.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Not your usual book recommendations ...
... over at Instapundit. That's because they're from readers. Which makes them more interesting. And, since everybody seems to do it, I guess I'll get around in the next couple of days to making some recommendations of my own.
A must post before leaving the office ...
There's so much worth reading to at Miss Snark -- just go and scroll down. Here's the site of her fan club (hat tip: Bonnie Calhoun).
Probably won't blog anymore today. I have a review to write.
Probably won't blog anymore today. I have a review to write.
The big issue ...
... seems to be "literary" vs. "genre" fiction. At least it comes up a lot. Sarah Weinman touches on it in Here we go again, redux.
Prediction is difficult ...
... according to Niels Bohr. But maybe a sense of humor helps. Headlines from 2029 via Brandywine Books.
My day job ...
... about which I am supossed to blog from time to time, calls. Deadlines have been moved up and a story has just arrived that is, shall we say, a tad long. Back later.
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